Читать книгу Apprentice Lost in Parallel - Kevin Colbran - Страница 3

By now I had marked nine or ten worlds on my list and had confirmed that my counterparts seem to be the one common factor.

Not exactly reassuring but “Hey I'm famous,” The man said as the folk hauled him out of town on a horse rail, covered in tar and feathers, "If it weren't for the honour, I would sooner forego being the centre of attention."

So here I was marking off another set of symbols before trying the next world.

Crossing my fingers that this was it, by now I was baffled and couldn't even backtrack to Silvertoe's office. Perhaps I should cross my toes as well.

The doors slid open and looked out somewhere different, darn not Ultimo Technical College Mechanical concourse.

Instead, an open corridor with an open fronted office facing the lift door; visible behind a desk was a window with grassy paddock dotted with buildings.

Stepping out to explore, a woman looked up a few yards away, greeting me with, "Good afternoon Steve, here to see Senior? I will just buzz him to let him know.”

Noting my confusion, she added, "Oh a newbie, Senior has fun explaining each time. Hi, I’m Anne Strothers."

The door adjacent swung open and a man I now recognised as a 'self' in his fifties dressed in a smart work uniform of blue shirt and darker trousers. With a welcoming smile, he invited me into his office, this being a similar size to Anne’s with what I now recognised as computer stations against one wall with a bookshelf on the other wall. Arrayed in the middle were lounge chairs giving a homely appearance.

He then asked, "Did Silvertoe send you through or just random buttons?"

I replied, "Random I suppose, I have met Silvertoe but was diverted by another wearing a devil head; and then became lost when sent into the wrong lift."

"That happens too often, have promised myself next time I will have to have words with Misto and sort him out, the problem arises because Silvo modelled his Androids on us.” Steve Senior explained.

“Misto doesn't check first, therefore as long as you do as he says, without question, he thinks you are an Android ready for dispatch,” Senior elaborated, and then he asked, ”Did you have a hair net on?" I nodded, "You would have received the order directly then." I nodded again, so Senior continued.

"Right, well since you here, you have cut out the middle man so to speak, Silvo would have sent you here as I am the plus thirty Mentor. This role means I give you some training before letting you loose on the gateways."

"Sounds good, except that it has been a long day and I am just about tired out," I responded.

Senior nodded then continued, "Since you have seen Silvertoe and now have a net. I presume that he set up your double to fill in for you?" noting my nod, "That makes life simpler, it would take some time to organise. Too much time and you would be a missing person quick as a wink."

"Hell of a hullabaloo with Kev from world 435, he had the Tech College and the family in a real tizzy before it was sorted out. I think his parents grounded him for weeks and it was several months before he didn't have to check in every five minutes,” Senior added.

“Couldn't tell the real story, so everyone thought he had lost the plot. Still doesn't take much for that to happen, as we already are deemed weird." Grinning at what must be a private joke.

Seeing my raised eyebrow, He said, "Well when you get to my age if you can't laugh at yourself; you are just taking yourself too seriously. Though I don't suppose that I was overly fond of being the butt of the joke when I was your age either."

"Now back to business, what time do you think it is?" Giving stomach time as near tea, "Well it is close enough to lunch to me," Touching a button, "Anne, stepping out for a bite, back in an hour."

"Okay, Senior. Will hold your calls," Anne answered.

Instead of going out into the foyer he opened an ordinary door inside the office, stepped through and invited me to follow while it should have opened into Anne’s it opened into a largish cupboard empty except for another door with a keyboard alongside. Closing the door behind me, entering a number on the keyboard and pressing his thumb on a flat square.

Twisty-slide sensation opened the door and ushered me into a kitchen with a rural outlook.

Senior commented, “Just one of the perks being the boss, Eh?”

Opening a refrigerator, Senior said, "Now to make some sandwiches, ham and salad sound good?"

After knocking back a couple of sandwiches, glancing at the clock, He announced, “I suppose we have enough time for a Cook's tour of this area."

So we trooped outside and pointed at a bicycle, he mounted another, and then waved me to follow. Heading down a relatively smooth track which headed towards a grey beehive building, passing what looked like massive long-legged wombats browsing amongst shrubs.

Following my gaze; He explained, "That’s an experiment turning Diprotodont into beef cattle; with drought tolerance and reproduction rates similar to the kangaroos, the production possibilities are quite good. With no local predator or diseases, they are multiplying quite well."

"Diprotodont means two forward teeth which refer to a marsupial related to the wombat. These died out in our world between 5,000 to 10,000 years ago, when a change of weather together with the people who we identify as aboriginals who may have eaten the remainder. Kieth located these animals in the world where the people migration with their firestick activity didn't happen."

Bringing the bike to a halt, he whistled and called, “Bill, here boy.”

The larger Diprotodont ambled over, looking expectant as Senior dug into a bag on the bike, giving an apple to him.

“They are somewhat smarter and less belligerent than cattle; Bill settled down very quickly and now is the family head of this group.

They move around in family groups of a male, one to three females and their offspring below the age of about four years. Young bucks and does older than this drift off into their respective bachelor and spinster groups until they are ready to mate and form their families. Several families form a loose herd which roam in the general area.” Having finished delivering this lecture, we remounted and pedaled on.

Carrying onto the base of the building, we parked the bikes in a rack and entered the building first walking down a tunnel and then using a lift to arrive at a high observation compartment. The doughnut-shaped room overlooked a spiral labyrinth filling the majority of the floor space. Interspersed around the room were several control stations monitored by people dressed much the same as Senior. These people waved as Senior came in and then returned to their screens.

On several outer lanes, trucks and semi-trailers appeared out of what looked like curtains, rumbling forward for about 50 yards around the curve before disappearing through another. Cars came and went over shorter lengths.

"What's that?" I enquired.

"They are city bypasses; vehicles go through larger gateways which work on the same principle as the lift-ways. They form part of the technology that my company is introducing, more of which I will explain tomorrow when you are not jet lagged or does time out of whack, sound more informative."

I had to agree that it felt very late, despite the sun still being overhead.

He continued. "Well, we will settle you down for the night and pick up the pace over the next couple of days as you catch up with the clock."

The pair had a slow ride back to the house, and I was shown around the facilities and assigned a bedroom. "You will find pyjamas and clothes for tomorrow in the drawers and cupboard; they will fit because this is where I accommodate other selves."

Then Senior added, "I'm off back to work. If you wake up early, there's the bookshelf, help yourself." After seeing that I had settled, Senior departed through the gateway.

I dragged myself to the bathroom; then hit the bed already asleep.

It seemed no time at all before sunlight streamed through the front windows. Up and dressed, had just started on breakfast as Senior walked in.

"Up I see, not by much, definitely slept the clock around, probably be some more time before you are in sync. I might as well have some brekkie," Senior chatted away as he loaded breakfast on a plate and then started to make it disappear.

"Thought I would arrive early and start briefing you on the setup at the company.

Now for me, it started just after I left the Army and bought an electronics repair shop. Then I received a letter from a trust fund, saying that they wanted to arrange an interview."

The story went that a trust had been set up nearly 30 odd years ago when my senior had done much the same as me and then returned to a normal life, forgetting the adventure.

The trust was set up independently by his assigned mentor visiting and buying shares using a list of companies, following a record of how they went over the years.

At this time his repair business was barely paying the rent so having 30 million dropped on him out of the blue was a shock.

This together with detailed instructions on how to set up a transfer station and then a factory complete with the marketing of the sleep gun and kinetic field turned his world on its’ end.

An essential part of the program was to arrange for someone to 'discover' the principles and patent the devices. Sometime in the twists and turns of the parallel worlds, an alternate Steve and his son Thomas acting in partnership achieved this.

Rather than drop this on the poor sod he mentored, Senior now organised a training program so that said poor sod would be better prepared.

The anomaly of time slip is explained, that when the choice creates another world, it then hives off like the Jewish candelabra.

So drawing a horizontal line, the timeline seems to be different in that the original or close to the centre and the inner lines lag behind in elapsed time. Well as it works; parallel worlds can be an entirely different date.

Phenomena such as ghosts, déjà vu and premonitions could be explained by that there are thin places through which sensitive people can experience events in trances or dreams. We can, in fact, use these ‘thin’ areas to set up gateways, not essential but uses less power to maintain.

Another useful way of understanding the separation is as soap bubbles that can interact at boundaries; individually discreet and perhaps allowing for the existence of the missing dark matter that time and space theories can’t account for so far.

Have you heard of Schrodinger’s cat? It is a thought experiment of placing a live cat in a box, contained in the box is a lethal gas capsule with a random timer. The theory is that you cannot determine if the cat is alive or dead without opening the box. Therefore the result is that (a) the cat is alive but asleep, (b) The cat is dead.

A person cannot determine the live/dead status without opening the box and looking. One theory indicates that when you look to check; you then become part of the ‘bath’ which contains the cat. As you cross the boundary of the bubbles, this places you in a similar situation, and the previous world that you had been experiencing now becomes a physical barrier to observation.

The speculation also suggests that if they converge by time synchronisation, coincidental development or unequal exchange of material they eventually merge into one. Each blissfully unaware, that anything had happened, except that old friends and relatives that had disappeared in one now returned to the survivors of the other.

As the collapse of the barrier between the worlds would put a crimp in the cross gate enterprises, a careful accounting of matter transfer between is required.

The original transfer station mentioned was a shed on a rented block near Jondaryan, where Senior arranged an initial 40 tonne per week delivery of coal. This product is then loaded into containers and then being passed through the shed door/gate to arrive at an ‘up-time’ world so that its’ factories can use the coal as stock for plastics and minerals. This transfer was necessary as digging their own is forbidden because of environmental concerns.

After a time the container would return with computer integrated circuits, colloquially called 'chips', special plastic to build the gadgets with and the balance made up with gravel and water, to keep the weight in balance. The gravel built up the road through the block and the water into the dam for dust suppression. A couple of times a week the 'chips ' would be taken into Toowoomba, to assemble circuit boards and plastic parts.

Back at the workshop, workers would transport the boxes of plastic to the moulding shop and the finished parts collected. Onto the workbench and assembling the sets began.

"That's the easy part, as the product still has to be sold; this entailed convincing everyone they work and that the potential customer needs them.

We have to show that competing products such as 'Tasers' and body armour are inferior. This assembly also had to be done under high security as the original workshop was hardly Fort Knox."

"Fortunately, the family turned out to be highly talented in sales and production organising. Arranging the 'discovery of theory' was more difficult as Tom was absent, having returned to his mother several years before. He has since returned to the fold, and is now doing Uni to get the proper bits of paper to have credibility."

"Going to make an incredible breakthrough when he does his doctorate thesis. According to the rules, I can't give more than a few vague hints. While there are several competing theories, combining and turning these into practical items will be the tricky part. Despite having an engineering background, I have had to enter Uni myself to gain credibility by earning a degree, mind you, doing homework at my age is a shock to the system. This education is necessary, despite assembling the things for some time and being well versed in the background theory. One of the hardest jobs is explaining why the patents had to remain pending until we could show why they work. Technically the equipment we are now selling is second-generation, and once the team publishes the theories, a third-generation chip can then be patented and produced to keep ahead of the competition. The actual difference will be the removal of the anti-analysis feature, which makes them cheaper to manufacture.”

Noting that both of us had finished eating, he then put the dishes into a shiny cupboard. "Dishwasher, best invention since sliced bread."

I thought this was a strange comment as Mum usually did the slicing with a bread knife, and the kids did the washing up.

Guiding me through the door back to his office, Senior said, "I will have to knock over some paperwork. Despite some bright spark predicting that paper would be obsolete with the advent of computers, that hasn't happened yet, as everyone still writes notes as a backup." The 'IN' box cleared, we moved out into the foyer as Anne arrived.

"Pity if those door gadgets broke down you would have to walk somewhere,” Anne quipped.

Senior responded by poking his tongue out and informed her, "It hasn't happened yet. Off on the grand tour. We shouldn't be too long."

Keeping up a running commentary as we walked Senior continued, "This floor contains the management offices and a couple of sleepover bedsitters for visitors."

Entering the lift and using the conventional down set of buttons we debarked onto the second floor. "This floor has sales staff, production organisers and buying department." Using the steps this time, Senior commented, "Just for variety."

Down the next flight of stairs, we entered a parking garage, "The bosses park here, also the specials for when I need to visit the protégés. That one over there does it look familiar?"

Senior indicated a row of cars; there was one identical to my morrie. Pointing at this one, Senior asked. "Will we take that one?"

I nodded, so we climbed in, Senior having ushered me into the driver's seat with a smile, I was slightly suspicious, some differences were evident as I sat behind the wheel; the gear stick was in the 1000 model position, the steering wheel smaller, lower and leather covered.

“Before we move put the seat belt on,” Senior said as he demonstrated. To me these belts were a novelty, only racing and luxury cars had them in the early sixties, and I had to fit attachments on my car to allow the fitting.

I turned the ignition 'ON' and looked for the starter button (usually on the floor). "Just turn the key a bit more,” was the advice. Doing this the motor sprang quietly to life (instead of a shudder). I pushed the clutch in, the stick snicked into gear, and as I let the clutch out, the car zipped back causing me to hit the brakes to keep control.

Thump, wow they work well. I must have had a startled look on my face, Senior said, "I am used to modern cars with a bit more get up and go, this car was not standard."

Following his pointed finger I gently as possible drove out of the garage and onto the driveway, curving around to the left, passed a large building. Coming into view was a sign: 'Factory and Research facility' on a sign with a logo of an Old English soldier in chain mail and helmet holding a firebrand, and a white shield adorned with three red hunting horns.

Senior explained the logo as being a visual interpretation of our family name, Norse for firebrand or helmeted warrior. "We will come back to that one later." Swinging past low-set houses and apartment buildings, "Workers accommodation" driving around a smooth avenue which didn’t seem to go anywhere, "Bike and car learner circuit", by now I was getting used to the difference in driving and the improvement in performance.

"Is there any chance of me borrowing this?" I asked, remembering how embarrassed I had been when I joined the lunchtime apprentice drive around Mascot. The wise guy of the class had changed down and revved up; when I did, the old morrie had stood on its’ nose as it had too low a third gear.

Senior laughed, "Yep I remember. I get asked that every time one of you drive it, well what you can do is to upgrade one yourself to just a bit better than Chris' car, which had an Austen Healy Sprite motor and gearbox. If we fit parts from a Datsun 1200 which has the right parts to give you an edge, this one would get you into all sorts of trouble; at least until you have had more experience."

I suppose I had to be satisfied with that and we continued with the drive, next was a lane leading to a big shed into which were entering and leaving, long lines of trucks. "The Toowoomba city bypass gateway," on the smaller road we were on was an open doorway, "Stop here a sec." flipping down the glove box which now showed a screen with a keyboard. Tapping a code into the unit, "Drive on", I moved the car into the shed feeling the twisting sensation, "Drive up to the line and when the green light shows, drive through the exit."

Doing this we departed from a similar shed, "East of Withcott now, Bottom of the range." Fishing around in his pocket he gave me an oblong card covered in plastic, examining this I could see that it had my photo on it. "Park the car over there for it a moment; I have to put P plates on, that is a current provisional license so that you can drive back through Toowoomba.”

Senior hopped out and put two plates on, magnetic I suppose as they stayed in place. "When it is safe, turn right, and we will head back up the hill then you will see how much time is saved."

"Remember that the 100 sign means 60 miles per hour, the 80 means 45 and the 60 mean 35 as this car still has miles per hour speedometer."

Following directions we toured through the town of Withcott, Wow they certainly have a lot of signs, speed and warning of Police and speed cameras. Leaving Withcott, the zones went from 60 to 80 to 100 very quickly, and I was pleasantly surprised that the Morrie zoomed up to the speed without hesitation even climbing a steep ascent with the same contempt that my car treated downhill. My old Morrie needed a good downhill run to even look at 60mph (100), and we can forget the up hills.

Towards the middle of the hill, signs restricted the speed to 70 kph, then 60 as we entered Toowoomba proper, heading down the hill on a four-lane street lined with trees. "Warrego Highway which heads west," then as we crossed another four-lane road, "That's the New England Highway which goes north-south. Turn left at the second traffic lights, then turn right. Stop here, that's my home."

He then took me inside and introduced me to Wendy as the ‘new’ one. This reception felt strange to meet someone that you had met yet hadn't. This Wendy seemed well used to the idea of having multiple Kevs hanging around, not commenting beyond welcoming me.

Seated again in the morrie we again headed west towards Charlton to the factory complex.

I commented, "Yes that is quite a fair way in time and distance. Is it popular amongst the truck drivers?"

"Too right it is; the saving for a truck is about $25 in time and fuel. We have been waiting about 20 years for a bypass," Said Senior. "There are about 2500 trucks a day using it at $10 per trip, apart from taking that number out of town it employs several people."

"The projected use for the next five years indicates the numbers will nearly double and the cost-saving another five dollars per trip. So when we start franchising for other cities around the world, the income will become embarrassing."

Driving back into the compound, Senior directed to park back in the garage. "Next visit is to the prototype room so I can show off the range of toys." Walking this time over to the research facility, Senior ushered me into the right side annexe.

First peering into a small window then laying his hands onto a flat panel, saying "Open says me" Indicating that I should do the same I went through the same routine. As I completed this, the door swung open.

"The door won't open unless all those present are cleared." Senior explained, "A camera takes a picture of your iris, the pad checks the fingerprints, the sweat for stress and lastly a microphone matches a voice print. If anything doesn't agree with authorised people, all sorts of alarms go off, and of course, the door doesn't open." Musing, "Tried thinking of something scary which slightly changed my sweat and pulse rate; that was enough," shaking his head at the memory, added, "won't try that again."

We entered the room; there was a row of shop manikins lined up one wall contained within a glass-fronted case. These ranged from a vest with pockets, to what looked like a motorcycle racing suit.

At the 'feet ' were what appeared to be toy guns made of yellow and red plastic sitting in individual supports. Walking down the line, Senior described them. The vest being an attractive offering, it allows police officers somewhere to stick their bits and pieces as well as the Kinetic Field and batteries to power it. At its feet was the first production sleep gun, deliberately made in orange plastic to indicate the non-lethal effect.

The next was just a belt which incorporated the field so that someone in the civilian dress could wear it; the accompanying 'gun' was just a small, slim device. "The big ones are just larger to have a presence, as the miniature one doesn't impress 'macho' policemen or their customers."

As we passed the more involved suits, senior explained that these were the military offerings culminating in the Fearnaught and Dreadnaught indicating a high degree of defence and offensive equipment incorporated. The factory constructs the armour of the vests and suits from synthetic spider silk, ‘dragon scale’ ceramic plates (lately invented by the CSIRO) supported with rubber foam to provide ventilation and shock spreading.

The most advanced suit is called the Dreadnaught, apart from the field and knock out gadgets, has remote air via the gate; without the field on, will still stop a high velocity round and so of course, a knife, as the kinetic field doesn't stop a slow push. The outer layer also has inbuilt exoskeleton power enhancement, allowing better than Olympic standard athletic abilities such as running a marathon at 100-meter sprint pace. "It would be banned from any competition."

Directing me to a side room which had a manikin set up at the end had the simplest belt fitted, with targets alongside, at the nearest end a bench with several pistols lying on it. Senior described this was a soundproofed firing range.

First handing me a set of earmuffs and goggles, he donned a set himself. Then selecting an automatic pistol, after first pressing a button to turn on warning lights, he then proceeded to fire two rounds into the target and then fired another two into the manikin.

Unloading and applying the safety on the pistol then killing the red lights. Senior then waved me forward removing the safety gear. The bulls-eye of the target now had two holes in the middle, and lying on the ground just short of the dummy were two spent rounds.

"Pretty effective don't you think," Senior said proudly. Reaching back he picked up a metal rod from the bench and handing it to me, indicating the dummy. I then slashed at it, felt like stirring wet cement, then I poked at it, and the rod slid easily through to the dummy. "That's the weakness, but with a baton or basic body armour, this is not a big problem," Senior explained.

“Now,” Senior went on returning to the bench and picking up one of the ‘toy’ guns. ”Watch this.” He then fired towards the target. A quiet 'whit' and a puff of orange dye appeared in front of the target. “The dye marks the target, harmless and is set off by proximity, first it is bright orange which then fades to yellow after the sleep period finishes. This gun is the practice unit and doesn’t trigger a ray. The unit also has a camera to confirm the target.”

Handing me a full face helmet, “Put this on, pick up the sleep pistol, point it at the target taking up the first tension, you should now see a target grid.”

I did this. A circle with crosshairs appeared and as I moved the gun around, so did the crosshairs.

“So that you can hit the target where you are aiming. The range is line-of-sight, so if you can see it, you can hit it. The pellet is a tiny rocket and therefore has a flat trajectory. There is a lockout which prevents the pellet being fired too close. The sleep ray, of course, is unaffected.” The demonstration finished, Senior gestured for me to remove the helmet.

Senior went on, “Depending on the requirement of the customer, the noise at the delivery end, can be varied from soap bubble pop through to 110 decibels or a three-penny bunger.

At the weapon, there is hardly any noise or recoil. The weight is also variable from eight ounces to up 2 pounds; the lightest is as durable as a standard pistol, with fewer moving parts and waterproof. The extra weight in the latter only makes it nearly unbreakable and more stable.”

“Want to try the Fearnaught suit?” Senior asked.

“Why not. Try anything once,” I answered.

So we adjourned to the next room. Opening a cupboard, Senior started handing me the components of the suit. As Senior gave me each piece, I put them on with the edges overlapping and forming an unbroken join. To finish were boots, power pack and lastly the helmet.

The suit totalled up a healthy weight, though well balanced. Senior advised me to say “assist 1.”

I said this, and the apparent weight diminished to what felt like standing in stomach deep water. Partly supported and when prompted to walk felt lighter than normal with no resistance. While I was walking around becoming used to the feel, Senior was equipping himself similarly.

“Follow me,” Senior instructed as he led the way into a side room apparently a trans-world gate. This door opened onto a forest, open with scattered trees.

“Now I will explain the purpose of this exercise. In about a month’s time, I am putting on a demonstration for the SAS. Together with a couple of employees, myself and if you are up to it, you can join us.”

“Great, what do I have to do?” I responded.

“Apart from getting in a lot of practice with the suit, so that you are entirely familiar with it. You will be doing some exercise to build up your stamina,” Senior said, “Another task will be to practice infantry minor tactics with the rest of the team. As this can coincide with the suit training shouldn’t be a burden.”

Senior talked on, this over the inbuilt radio. ”For today, we will start with having some fun.”

“Just stay with me if you can,” Senior said as he then moved off at a slow trot. Seeing that I was keeping up, increased his pace until I was having trouble maintaining my balance, eventually tripping up and crashing into a bush. As he helped me back onto my feet, he commented; “With a few more crash and burns, you will be an expert.”

“Now I will show you the camouflage feature, ‘Suit camouflage.” With this command, he disappeared into the background, with a little flashing figure 1 replacing him on the inside of the faceplate. “You may now see a number on your screen instead of me, if you now say that command, to me you will come up as a 5, that being the designation of your suit.”

So I said, “Suit 'camouflage'.” Lifting my arm up into view, I could just see it as a distortion of the background.

“We will now just walk to the gateway and return to base, ‘Suit camouflage off',” Senior said as his suit flashed back into view, I joined him with the same command and as we turned back the way we had come there was a small flashing rectangle on the screen. “You should now see a symbol for the gateway.”

“Yes if it is a rectangle,” I affirmed.

The return was uneventful, though it seems that we had covered quite a lot of territory and at walking pace, this took some time.

On the way, Senior chatted about what he intended when the demonstration happened. “We will join in with an SAS selection course, wearing the suits, of course, first showing that otherwise, we would have Buckley’s chance of qualifying, due to age in my case, youth and inexperience with the rest of the team. With the suit’s enhancement on 2, we should then have no trouble keeping up with them.”

Finally arriving back at the weapons facility, the suits removed, cleaned and stowed away, Senior suggested a shower, followed by a swim in the company pool. Even though the suit had done most of the work, I was quite sweaty and somewhat tired. “Yes sounds good, just don’t expect much apart from floating around.” I agreed.

By the end of the month, my enthusiasm had waned somewhat, as the routine involved distance training every second day, together with lectures on the current military equipment and tactics which of course had changed in the intervening 30 years.

Still, when the day arrived, I was waiting patiently, over in Western Australia at the SAS base, for the start of the exercise. The program for the first day was a 30-kilometre route march, which with regular breaks took most of the daylight hours, followed after by a night navigation exercise under patrol conditions, i.e. no noise or lights. This mode was easy for the suit wearers as we had an inbuilt infrared viewer and satellite navigation. In the wee small hours, a minimal camp was set up.

‘Turning to’ just before dawn, the group was reformed into ranks as we returned to the starting point.

As we approached the area, Senior gave the prearranged signal, “Link to me, suit power up to 4 and ‘cam up’.”

Senior then redoubled the speed, and to the SAS troop, our group just disappeared except for leaving some dust puffs as our team zipped up the road, finishing several minutes before the rest came in. Enough time to strip off the suits and hit the showers while Senior waited for the instructors to arrive and debrief.

While finishing like that may have annoyed them, they couldn’t help but be impressed with the style and endurance demonstrated. Leaving the soldiers with several suits to test at their leisure and form their test program, with the assurance; “If you can break the suits just to let us know.”

Packing up our gear and returning to base, Senior debriefed us. “Well done boys, the army reps are very impressed, and I expect them to lobby for the Army to purchase a full set. If only just to make sure they have first go at the technology.”

The next demonstration I was involved in was helping show off the police equipment to the Australian Federal Police at their Academy in Canberra.

The exercise began by first lining up a squad at one end of the football field, with our group and the observers at the other end. The challenge set for them was by any means while remaining in the area, to reach our end. After first reassuring them that the gun would not harm them, gave them the signal to start.

At first, they just started walking, but when the first man slumped as an orange puff appeared in front of him, the remainder began running and dodging. All to no avail, as the last handler and police-dog, were stopped with 20 yards to go before reaching the finish line. The first people hit were just rising back to their feet with a puzzled look on their faces; the police dog especially needed reassurance.

The bosses were all for doing it again with them having a go at the weapon. Senior said, “Okay, they are your troops, I’ll just load while you reform them.”

Handing over the sleep pistol, the observers became the shooters and with the same results.

“The dye fades to yellow after the initial sleep period, which is adjustable to over 10 minutes if they are at a distance, and the residue brushes off after an hour in the meantime marking someone of interest,” Senior explained.

We then proceeded to the firing range where a vest complete with kinetic field operating on a dummy was set up.

Inviting them to ‘fire at will’ stood back while several hundred rounds were fired from all sorts of weapons, pistols, rifles and even crossbows. The only result was a pile of spent munitions lying in front of the target. The marksmen and observers were most impressed except for one or two past members of the other police forces, these having seen the demonstration before and were behind the organising today’s entertainment.

Leaving them with the specifications and a couple of samples, we returned to the workshop.

Senior remarked as we drove through the short term gate. “I should have a new order as soon as the investigators put in a report. I could tell by the look in their eye. The reports are coming through on the danger of the ‘Taser’ shocks are embarrassing.”

“The Federal Police are the last holdouts in Australia, most of the others have had them in service for a year or so, with no complaints to date.”

“Of course apart from Canberra there is little domestic policing they do, but I am sure they will soon work out that close work at say the airports will be safer.

The real value is even if you accidentally ping an innocent, they aren’t harmed and probably won’t complain too much.

Having a hostage in front is no protection as both are harmlessly put to sleep; the only protection is from the dye.”

Back to the routine for a couple of weeks then I was called in by Senior to the weapons room. “Come with me, put on the Fearnaught suit and step into the gateway room.”

Having done so, I caught up with him as he stopped in front of the computers.

“Now, check this out,” Senior said.

On the monitor was a scene with several armed men looking nervously out of windows and doors, outside there were a dozen police cars with heads peering over them. To one side there were also some office people sitting against the wall looking terrified.

“What is happening is a hostage situation in a bank, which had just come over the news, so I came in here and zeroed into the area.”

“Here is what I intend to do, the five of us are going to zip in there in ‘cam mode’, interpose ourselves between the gunmen and the hostages. Then take out the criminals.”

“Sounds good, eh? We will have a couple of dry runs then go for it. By the time they realise what’s happening, they will be trussed up, and we will be gone.”

So we lined up, then walked about ten paces stopped, turned and trained the sleep guns ahead. With the injunction to stay less than a meter apart, this allows the fields to overlap and protect the hostages in case someone pulled a trigger.

We went through a couple of times and felt we could do this in our sleep.

Lining up for the real thing we trooped in, left turn and stunned the bad guys; these went down like the proverbial bags of manure.

The team stepped up to the fallen men; the guns were removed from the suspects, handcuffs applied; while the poor hostages were looking on in amazement as shadows moved around their erstwhile captors.

Senior uncammed long enough to reassure them that the danger was now over and they were to call the police outside that all was clear. I don’t know if someone suddenly appearing in a spaceman’s outfit then disappearing via an invisible door would be that reassuring, but they had been already facing quite a scary situation.

“Lapsed time two minutes, mission accomplished,” Senior announced.

“Wow, that was fun.” We exclaimed with one voice.

“I will have to see if we can organise something then,” Senior suggested helpfully.

We agreed if somewhat less enthusiastically, as we could imagine that this may involve sweating or at least hard work.

It didn’t seem long before his threat was carried out, this time it was a terrorist group that had been located in a cave system in the rugged border area between Pakistan and Afghanistan. Spread out around a campfire in a spacious cavern; they were apparently having a quiet get-together to catch up on what was happening in the world.

The scenario was that we would line up as before, nail them and with the help of a few extra helpers to deliver them to authorities. The cost of the exercise covered by the reward offered for their capture.

The time had arrived, and the team had been through the rehearsals with no hiccups, we gathered at the gateway.

However as ‘the best laid plans of mice and men affen gang astray’ (to quote Robbie Burns). As soon our group arrayed in line at the scene, the terrorists being paranoid, started firing wildly.

Well, that certainly tested the shields thoroughly, and while the baddies were dropped, it was not without a scare. The only causalities were a couple of the suspects wounded by ricochets from their weapons.

The backup team had the necessary first aid kits, so all it did was throw the timing out in evacuating the now peaceful sleepers for delivery.

Some of the team looked like they might need a change of undies. Well since there is a learning curve; this just showed where we were on it.

In retrospect, without the kinetic shields, it would have been very messy and probably a failure, no be honest, a disaster.

So next step after the delivery of the parcel to the FBI, making sure that we received the proper credit, was the debrief session.

“Well did anyone catch where it hit the fan?” asked Senior.

“I think as we paraded across in front, I suppose there were a couple of us dragging their feet,” Rodger volunteered, “That could have made a noise that they thought came from outside or perhaps a shadow.”

“Next question, what can we do next time to avoid that?” Senior asked.

“I suppose that we could spray the area first, and then follow up with the mop up,” I said as a suggestion.

“That should do it; we will have a practice tomorrow and get it down fine. Then we go hunting for another task. After a few, I will step back and let you young fellas have the fun to yourselves,” Senior said.

So we practised the revised technique several times over the next week between our normal activities. I must say my fitness level certainly was improving as usually without some incentive my idea of a good time was sitting for a few hours reading or perhaps a gentle walk on the beach.

Then I received a call from Senior to come to his office, as I walked in expecting another assignment, however instead with a smile was asked. “How you would like a home visit?

I suppose so, and he went on to tell me that since there was a bit of slack time, now was as good a time as any to set up the trust.

“Meet me back here in a half hour with your old bag,” Senior said as an instruction.

I stepped through the gateway to collect my stuff, tidying my room before I left, wondering if I would be returning. Arriving back at the office; I found that very little time had passed.

Senior laughed at this, “A bit keen to be going home, Eh? Well, you will be there about a week or so, and the reason is that #457, your stand-in, is in need of a service.”

“Okay, wouldn’t want to miss out on the fun back here for too long,” I replied.

“I have already organised #457 to meet up with your Morrie; we will arrive in mine and swap over. Next, I will take #457 over to Silvertoe; then return and stay at a hotel close by.”

Down to the garage, Senior took the driver’s seat saying “Can’t get you too used to this one if you have to drive the old one. Now don’t complain, when you go home permanently you will have the one that you are modifying up to warm standard, right?”

After a short drive around to the small gateway, Senior directed me to type in the code for my homeworld. When we drove out the other side on a small parking area off the road, there was an identical Morris Minor waiting, my old car.

From the car, #457 climbed out and handed me a set of clothes identical to what he was wearing. I dressed in these clothes and then swapped places. On the passenger seat was a map to show me where I was, I quickly recognised where I was, near Kurnell. With about a 30 minutes’ drive to my home around Botany Bay to Arncliffe, I waved goodbye to the other car and started off.

Oh yeah, couldn’t wait till I had the ‘new’ car going, god, this one is rough and slow.

It was certainly strange when I walked into the house and barely got a nod to acknowledge my return. Of course to my family, I had only been gone for a couple of hours as I often did, and as #457 had been updating his physical appearance to match my fitness level and the changes to my appearance. Still, it was great to see my family in the flesh. Of course, I received strange looks for the big smile that I was wearing. The dogs noticed, making a great fuss about me. Apparently, they could tell the difference between 457 and me.

I had just settled into my room when a knock sounded at the front door, followed by the familiar stampede of the kids to find out who it was. Mum, as usual, had to weave her way to the front so that she could greet the visitor. I heard Senior introduce himself as a friend from work and could he speak to me. As I joined the mob at the door, I noted Senior had changed his appearance somewhat and going by the weight change had the gel suit on to facilitate this. Outside was a blue car obviously not to attract attention if two identical cars were here.

“Come out to the car I have something to give you,” Senior said.

I followed him out with only Neil tagging on; I could see that this caused a little trouble with Senior as his Brother Neil had died in a car accident when he was 27. As we approached the car, Senior showed me a couple of books, one being my copy of the almanack listing the share prices for next 40 years and the other a list of directions to follow to make the most of the rise and fall of those prices.

“I don’t need to tell you not to let these books out of your sight, do I?” Senior asked.

'Yep,' I said. I had been given that lecture several times; Senior had engraved that permanently into my memory by now.

“I will pick you up tomorrow to start the process at the broker’s office, as you are under age to do it by yourself,” Senior said. 'Of course once set up you will have no problem continuing the process.”

Neil had been listening and by his look was baffled as to why a ‘work friend’ would discuss these things with me. As we headed inside, I told Neil that I would explain later if he kept quiet. How I wasn’t sure, though I am sure he would be enthusiastic once I let a few facts out. Of course to him, apart from being a little more odd than normal, I had been here all the time.

Back to the routine, for now, I was in the middle of holidays which is why everyone was at home; instead of school and work. I surprised Mum by having a shower after tea and going early to bed. The former because usually I only had a bath twice a week whether I needed it or not and the latter because I often sat up reading. The other reason, which I couldn’t explain, is that I was about 4 hours out of sync and had formed the habit of daily showers since I had been with Senior.

Awake before the dawn I reviewed the briefing that 457 had given over the last few days, consulting with me whenever something new came up; he had no problem simulating my normal behaviour, as I usually seem to be a bit slow on the uptake when hit with something new. Normally I was either described as shy, with little ambition or initiative. By the time I was able to handle anything new everyone else had moved on to something else; hence my tendency to read ahead to at least keep pace with my peers.

Today was about two days into annual leave, so technical college and work were in abeyance. Neil noticed that I was awake so asked. “So who was that character, I haven’t heard you talk about him before?”

“Now if you promise not to tell anyone I will tell you,” I said.

“Of course I wouldn’t,” Neil promised.

“Actually if you did I would deny it, and you would look pretty silly; as would I if the story was told to anyone older such as Mum or Dad.” I warned then added, “Not saying that you are gullible or anything.”

I first I explained that the person, who had been here for the last couple of months, hadn’t been me. He admitted that I had been acting strangely; the dogs weren’t happy and had been keeping well clear; at least that was the case until yesterday afternoon.

Then I began the story stopping at each stage to check if he was keeping up and not freaking out; but apart from a few wows and gees, seemed to be quite happy to be told of my adventures. When I eventually caught up to the present time, he was still listening.

“Wow,” Neil said at last, “When can I go? Sounds like fun.”

“I will have to clear it with Senior, because there is a lot of preparation, such as getting Silvertoe to lend us an Android,” I said; then went on. “There is another problem; your counterpart is not with Kev Senior as your counterpart had a car accident which he doesn’t like to talk about.”

That revelation sobered up his excitement. So I added, “Expect to hear lots of lectures about the dangers of drinking and driving from Senior if he does let you visit.”

I relented and handed him the hairnet to allow him to see what 457 was doing; on the principle that a bit of sight reinforces the story. By his face, I could see that it removed any last doubts as to the truth of my adventure.

We went out to breakfast, after an injunction about letting the cat out of the bag. Having finished and cleaned our teeth, we both waited as patiently as possible for Senior to turn up. While to us young people it seemed to take forever, he turned up about 8.30 am. Before we could go with him of course, I had to convince Mum that he was harmless, mind you that took some doing.

Eventually, Mum allowed us to go with him, with the proviso that we weren’t away long. So off we went but not far, as there was a solicitor just over the other side of Arncliffe railway station.

Entering the office at the appointed time, Senior introduced himself as our uncle and that he wished to set a trust account for us. The solicitor was happy to help us especially when he found out the scope of the project. Though he was somewhat puzzled that the duration would be so long.

Having commenced the paperwork, and promising to return in two days’ time, we left and headed for the next appointment at the stockbroker. On the way Neil surprised Senior by broaching the subject of visiting his world, after giving me a stern look for leaking the secret, he promised to think about it. Neil accepted this without a worry, confident that I would just keep reminding him.

At the Stockbroker, it also went well after Senior proved that an account of substantial funds was available. That he would be receiving instructions from outside, rather than us listening to his advice left him somewhat puzzled. But since the portfolio was going to be large and therefore be a good return for his company; he received the instructions with no further objections.

Completing the setup of these accounts, he drove us home while explaining on the way that the funds in the bank were native money, as in the previous few months he had paid visits. First to earn some money, then investing in horses, hardly gambling as he already knew the winner, then a couple of short-term investments to redirect the source of the money and finally to open the account in the trusts’ name.

After finishing the arrangements, He drove us back home and dropped us off. Informing me that 457 would soon be ready for employment again and that I would then return to training.

In the meantime, I could enjoy my holidays with the family and of course, get familiarised with my life so that I could fit into it again.

Settled into the routine, visiting Keith and otherwise driving around keeping myself busy, several days passed without any drama. One night when I was using the hairnet to keep in touch with 457, the android gave me the message that in two days’ time, the switch back would be made in reverse to the initial method and that Neil could also accompany me for a few weeks if he still wanted to. Another Android being lined up to substitute for him if needed.

I passed the good news to Neil that he would be able to visit for at least a couple of days. He was over the moon with excitement that he would see something new and join me for an adventure. How he would fit in, I wasn’t too sure.

The appointed time arrived I had repacked the trusty Morrie for the short trip, calmed Neil yet again and set out for the meeting place.

If the program ran its course as laid out by Senior, I would be doing the return myself in another six months or so. The thought that then I would have to cruise for nearly 30 years before facing my business challenge was somewhat daunting.

Senior’s car came down the road with 457 and the new Android to stand in for Neil. Greetings exchanged and the occupants swapped into the respective cars. Having warned Neil about the sensation he would experience, we arrived back at Senior’s complex.

As we arrived at Senior’s office, he said to Neil, “Now there are several rules that you need to follow, don’t tell anyone how you arrived here, and don’t ask too many questions, if you do want to know something either ask me or look it up in our library. Otherwise, follow my advice and have fun.”

“I handle the fun bit and if I need to know something I will ask one of you guys.” Neil paraphrased.

“Now if you take him through and settle down in your rooms, we can work out a program tomorrow that should keep you both entertained. Show him around the service world this afternoon would be a good start.” Senior said.

I took Neil into the transfer room and entered the accommodation. Showing him his room which already had been set up with clothes and all that he would need; after which we walked out to the fields in front, assigning Neil a bike I mounted mine. How like my first experience of Senior’s world.

Being the easiest course, I followed the route that I had been taken almost four months ago. By now Bill the Diprotodon was familiar with me and trotted over to receive the obligatory morsel, this amazed Neil as not only had a huge, strange animal come up to us but seemed friendly and happy to see me.

Putting Neil alongside Bill, I took their photo saying, "Well there's an interesting picture. Pity you don't still have ‘show and tell' it would certainly make a great story. If they get too curious, you just say it was a model at the museum."

“Yes I can see your point; it is hard enough for me to accept it and I am here alongside Bill.” responded Neil, “What do we see next.”

“The gateway system and then we take a tour through the town,” I answered. In this respect Neil and I are at opposite characteristics, he being a typical extrovert Gemini and myself an introvert Taurus. He was ready to rush in and experience `now’; with me being usually content to observe and let life unfold.

I took to the gateway system and explained how it worked, well as far I understood anyway. Then we pedalled onto the town describing that the layout was for the workers in the service world.

After which we went to the power station which looked like a building with cooling towers but no chimneys. There was not much to see inside as everything was ducted from an alternate Sun to here and from there back to an alternate Mars. There was no smoke or noxious smells just a hum from the generators.

Returning to the house to settle down for the night, the plan for tomorrow was the grand tour of Senior’s factory then the trip via the gateway to Withcott then back the long way through Toowoomba.

Being in a strange city should be enough to satisfy Neil’s enthusiasm at least for a while, and of course, the factory is more than a day’s entertainment for anyone.

The next morning we made our way into Senior’s office and then proceeded down to the garage to pick up my ‘new’ car to start the tour of Toowoomba. The factory is about 6 miles west of the city along the Warrego highway entering the town boundary before going past the airport; where the Warrego becomes Bridge Street, so called because they intended to build a bridge over the rail lines. After passing under one rail line via a small tunnel drove over a level crossing, together these two are a loop to allow the trains to change direction to the east. The street then intersects Ruthven Street, part of the New England Highway; turning into this street, you enter the central business district, roughly the same age and style as the buildings in Rockdale or Kogarah in Sydney where we live.

The CBD itself has bypass roads to discourage through traffic from the north-south and east-west. This feature is confusing to highway travellers as this disrupts the intersection of the two highways but necessary as there is considerable traffic between Brisbane and the Darling Downs which would not be accepted through the shopping centre.

Of course, the east-west traffic has been lessened by removal of trucks via the portal bypass, and when the north-south bypass allows further reduction of heavy traffic, congestion around the inner city should be alleviated to local only.

Later when I had a few quiet moments I was thinking about the situation I was in, then I twigged that I was somewhat like Arthur Dent the central figure of ‘Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy’. He had been caught up in an adventure and was just being swept along by preposterous circumstances of which he had no control and confused by even worse puns.

Despite this, at times he joined in what was to him an unfolding theatre production and occasionally adlibbed; thereby causing all sorts of dramas to happen.